United We Stand
by freakily obsessed Yassen fan
Summary: This is mostly about Yassen, but it's got Hunter and Alex in it too... Post snakehead, might be a few spoilers... R&R plz. LAST CHAPTER *CRIES*...
1. Awakening

**Disclaimer: Who are you kidding? me? own anyone? hah! well, I'm back, sorry that it's a really short chapter, but i couldn't wait to put it up. it's like a teaser i think... anyway, same drill, press that button... **

Disjointed images flickered through the shattered consciousness of Yassen Gregorovich. He groaned and tried to move but his muscles wouldn't obey him.

"He's awake." Someone said from nearby. Or far off. It was hard to tell in this state. Yassen opened one eye, and then shut it again. The light was blinding white and so were the walls, clearly a hospital room.

Someone grabbed his wrist, fingers pressing onto the vein. He turned his head and tried opening his eyes again. It was less bright from this angle and he managed to force both eyes open. A couple of doctors and a nurse were bending over him, checking his vital signs.

"Where am I? What happened?" he said, forcing the words from his lips as he tried to draw in the fractured pieces of his mind. The nurse leant over his head as if to check that it had been him who had spoken. He repeated the questions and her eyes widened.

"He's speaking!" she exclaimed to the doctors. Yassen winced and tried to push himself up on his pillows. He felt bandages slide over his skin and over the wound in his chest. In a burst of pain, the memories flooded back in to fill in the gaps. Air Force One. Damian Cray had shot him. Alex Rider… but he was safe.

"My name's Doctor Smith. You've been shot, lie still for a bit, we don't want you to break your stitches. You've been out for about a month by the way." The man muttered something to the nurse and she nodded and replied in an undertone.

Yassen's eyes flickered around the room, his training taking over. He noted the window, the only patch of darkness in this dazzling world. It was a possible exit… or entry point. The door was to his right, opposite the window, that was good at least; any would-be attacker should be dazzled by the light. His hand flew to his hip as he missed the familiar weight of his Grach.

Yassen drifted into an uneasy sleep. He was back.

And, a little over a mile away, a man lay sleeping. He twitched and lashed out with an arm…

Fire, the searing heat scorched his skin and he could smell his hair burning. The plane was an inferno, the hungry roar of the flames drowning out every other sound, except one. Somehow, the screams of his wife as she fought to escape from the fire reached his ears. He tried to run forward but he was held back by a fireman. He broke free and ran towards the plane. But now the ground was playing tricks on him, he was running but the plane wasn't getting any closer. The screams stopped and John Rider awoke, bathed in sweat.

He got up and walked over to his computer, the screen had blinked on accompanied by a mechanical bleep. He had an e-mail. He clicked on it and read.

His eyes widened and he laughed out loud. Yassen was alive. John Rider allowed himself a few minutes to celebrate his friend's wellbeing before picking up the phone. He had work to do.

About two miles from John Rider, to form a triangle over the centre of London, Alex Rider sat in his room, reading a book for his English homework. He couldn't concentrate; his life was so different now. He realised that he wanted to talk to Yassen again, to ask him more about his father. But he was dead…so was Ash…Ian Rider…his mother…his father. Everyone he'd cared for was dead, except Jack.

God, he'd just included _Yassen_ in the list of people he cared for. But the Russian had saved his life, he felt grateful. Alex shook his head and focused again on the page in front of him. But he couldn't remember what was happening and gave up.

He lay down on the bed and stared blankly at the silent stars outside his window.


	2. Meeting

**Hi, thank you my reviewers and i hope you like this chapter, though it doesn't feel quite right to me... ah well **

**oh and i own nowt (nothing by the way)**

One week later and Yassen was well on the way to recovering. The bullet wound hadn't been too serious, it had punctured one of his lungs and fractured a rib, but most of the damage had been through blood loss.

He had been moved to a ward only the day before and was looking forward to being able to leave. He was able to walk again, though not for very long. His muscles had wasted away while he was in his coma and they were refusing to start pulling their weight again. He hated being in this weakened state, especially without his gun. He felt vulnerable.

He was sitting in bed reading when he got his first visitor. It was a tall man, pale with thick black hair. The skin on his face looked dead, like putty. The man walked purposefully towards his bed on the ward. Yassen watched him out of the corner of his eye, wishing that he had his gun. This man was trouble.

Yassen tensed, feeling the stitches tighten in his chest. But the man just sat down in the low chair beside his bed and stared at him.

"What do you want?" Yassen asked eventually. The man smiled tightly and sat back, relaxing into the chair.

"You haven't changed that much. Fourteen years and you look almost exactly the same." Fourteen years…Yassen tried to think of someone he hadn't seen for fourteen years. There was no one, except Hunter, but he'd been killed on Albert Bridge. He'd seen the tape, seen the blood. That was why he'd sent Alex to SCORPIA, the ultimate revenge on MI6 for killing Hunter.

"Who are you?" Yassen asked, still tense but curious too. His visitor's voice seemed familiar.

"I'm a friend, a very good friend." Yassen's brow creased as he tried to remember the voice. "Anyway, I'd better be off. Nice to see you again Cossack." As the last word left the man's lips Yassen realised who it was. Bizarrely impossibly, it was Hunter, somewhere under the flesh mask.

"But… you're dead. I saw you go down. Wait, Hunter! John, wait for god's sake." John had vanished out of the door.

Yassen flung the duvet aside and tried to run after him. His legs collapsed under him and he swore in Russian. The whole ward was staring at him, people were leaning out of beds to get a better look and visitors had wandered over and were watching from a safe distance.

A nurse slid through the crowd and drew the curtains around Yassen's bed. He had pulled himself to his feet and shook off the nurse as she tried to help him into his bed.

"I can do it myself." He snarled, his Russian accent becoming more marked in his annoyance. That was a difference, he reflected as he picked up the book again, when he had first met Hunter the emotion would have been rage by now.

Yassen slept fitfully that night. Seeing Hunter, or at least the man that reminded him so strongly of his mentor, had sparked off hundreds of memories that he had buried long ago. He wept in his sleep as he relived his last moments with Holly. The rescue he had pulled off with Hunter at the age of seventeen.

The next day was cold. Even with the heating on, Yassen could feel the chill in the air. It was almost Christmas and tinsel was hung from the railings and a tree had been erected in the corridor outside. He watched the window, thinking longingly of being out of here. His stitches were due out today, and within a few days he knew his patience would run out. And then he would run out… the door.

"Are you still here? I thought you'd be long gone." Hunter strolled in through the door, dressed as himself this time. Yassen's heart leapt with happiness, he _was_ alive. "So how'd you get yourself shot? Didn't I teach you to _always _wear your body armour?" Yassen shrugged guiltily and grinned, feeling genuinely happy for the first time in months, maybe even years.

"And I thought you were dead, do you see me complaining at you for not wearing your body armour?" Hunter laughed, showing that he had been free of the emotional restraints for long enough to show how he felt again. The two men embraced, each grinning at various memories.

"I hear you've met my son." Hunter said suddenly. Yassen nodded and recounted the tales of their meetings, his supposed death, and the way he had sent Alex to SCORPIA. Hunter gasped at that and Yassen stopped, surprised. "You sent Alex to SCORPIA? I can't believe it, you…" words failed him and he slumped forward, resting his head on his knees.

Yassen was shocked at what he could read in Hunter's face, rage had flickered over it, then disbelief, and finally a sort of deep, hopeless despair had settled in to stay. Not knowing what to do, Yassen sat silent until Hunter sat up straight.

"Yes, I sent Alex to SCORPIA, but I don't think he stayed, there was a whole load of media cover about a nasty incident with a balloon and some sort of terrorist attack, but it went wrong.

"It sounded like a SCORPIA plan, and I know how effectively Alex can screw stuff up. I think he got in so far, and then backed out, taking a whole operation with him. Why is it such a problem?" Hunter's eyes had lit up at the idea of his son being ok and outside of SCORPIA but the light faded as Yassen asked him the dreaded question.

"I was never really working for them, I was with MI6." He answered quickly, trying to get it over with. Yassen froze and John realised that if he'd been armed, Yassen would have shot him by now. "I'm sorry, you were never meant to find out.

"Albert Bridge was a setup, I wanted out. And then Julia Rothman sent someone to plant a bomb on my plane. I survived, but it killed Helen." sadness replaced the guilt and Yassen relaxed, still angry and shocked, but some things were worth a few knocks, his and Hunter's friendship was one of them.

"And Alex, he doesn't know you're alive does he?" Hunter shook his head, and then straightened up. His eyes burned with a new resolve.

"But that's going to change soon I hope. Now, to business, I haven't just dropped in for a chat. I need someone to keep an eye on Alex for me, someone that he knows, that he can relate to, who's helped him before.

"As soon as you get out of here, I want you to follow him, wherever he goes, you go." Yassen stared at Hunter, one eyebrow slightly raised. "What? You'd be fantastic at it. Money's no object by the way; I've got quite a store. So, will you do it?"

"But, like you said, he knows me. As soon as he sees me, he'll know I'm not dead and go straight to MI6. I don't want to be arrested."

"He won't go to MI6. He'll want to find out more about me, and he knows that you knew… know me so he won't do anything until you've told him a bit more about me. And by then he'll know you better and won't want you to be arrested anyway."

Yassen blinked quickly as he tried to take in what Hunter had said. He could see that he was desperate for Yassen to accept. So he nodded.

"Ok, I'll do it for a month. Then you have to find some other person to do it for you." Hunter shrugged.

"Fine by me, but the month starts from the day you get out, not from today. Thank you for doing this." He smiled happily and left.

Yassen lay on his side, watching the rain beating on the window. Somehow, he could feel that this would be a life changing mission. And he was looking forward to it.

**Let's hear those mice click! that little purple button is just screaming "CLICK ME!!" also, any ideas about improvements?  
**


	3. Agreement

**Sorry for the long gap between updates, but you would not believe the amount of Coursework I've had. Anyway, Easter hols now so hopefully more updates… and I hope you like this chapter. and i dont own anything.  
**

Yassen didn't sleep well that night, making it two nights in a row. Usually, before he had been shot, he would only have slept for about 4 hours anyway, but now he was trying to build up his strength and it was starting to get on his nerves that he couldn't sleep.

Throughout the night he felt alternately furious at the deception and over the moon that his friend was alive after all. Hunter was alive! That had taken while to sink in. After fourteen years, it was hard to accept that he was alive. And why hadn't he told him before that he wasn't dead? Yassen felt confused. Hunter couldn't have worked for MI6, he hated them.

The next day was as cold as the one before, but Yassen didn't feel it now. He was waiting for Hunter to come in again. He ate a little breakfast, and tried to read, a magazine on guns and ammo he had found on a table. But he couldn't get into it, his eyes kept flicking to the door and he'd jolt upright at the sound of footsteps. He felt stupid but couldn't help it.

At about eleven, Hunter came in again. He was dressed in a black leather jacket and blue denim jeans. A few women watched appreciatively as he strolled down the aisle between the two rows of beds.

Yassen dropped the magazine and sat up straighter. All the emotions he had felt during the night flooded back, anger tempered with happiness. His eyes flashed dangerously as he watched Hunter settle into the hard chair.

"We need to talk." He snapped. Hunter looked surprised at the harsh tone of his voice but stood up and pulled the curtain around the bed.

"What is it?" he asked, sitting back down. Yassen winced slightly as he leant towards the older man.

"Right, I know that yesterday I was all for this idea, but I'd though you were dead for fourteen years and I was over the moon that you weren't. But it's a ridiculous idea. Alex won't want me following him, and then there's the more personal stuff." He took a deep breath, his voice had been calm but he felt it start to crack as the anger and memories of sadness welled up inside him.

"Fourteen years. You let me think, for fourteen years, that you were dead, why? What was the point? Did you honestly think that I'd be fine with it if you just reappeared after fourteen years? For God's sake John, I went to your _funeral._" Hunter flinched and looked away.

"I don't know why I stayed away. At first it was because you were with SCORPIA and they thought I was dead. And then I thought that they could have told you about me working for MI6, and that you'd planted the bomb on the plane…" His voice tailed away.

Yassen sat back, feeling vaguely guilty and very betrayed. "You honestly thought I'd kill you? Bloody hell, I thought that you'd know me better than that." Hunter shrugged, looking uncomfortable.

"And you thought you knew me, I didn't want to go to anyone who might be with SCORPIA, and you were still working for them. I'm sorry, but I couldn't trust anyone. Even MI6 only found out that I was alive a few months ago."

Yassen smiled thinly, his eyes staying cold. Hunter, watching him, felt sad that he had stopped Yassen from doing something more worthwhile with his life. Then the moment passed and he looked Yassen directly in the eyes and spoke again.

"Can you forgive me? And will you still tail Alex?" Yassen rolled his eyes and nodded shortly.

"I'll do it. But for one month only, I meant that part." Hunter smiled and clasped his hand.

Two days later, Yassen walked out of the hospital. He still felt weak, but he knew that Hunter had gym equipment at his flat and was looking forward to building his strength.

Hunter met him on the front steps, again attracting a lot of attention from passing women. He seemed oblivious to it though and chatted happily as the two men threaded their way through the jostling crowds. Hunter led the way to his flat, overlooking the river Thames.

Yassen had a box room set up with a camp bed. He sat down on the edge and stared into space. He still wasn't sure that he was doing the right thing by agreeing to follow Alex. He sighed and stood up.

The flat was small, but comfortably furnished. Hunter had moved in there after MI6 had discovered he was alive and it disturbed Yassen slightly that he was in a place that MI6 knew better than he did.

The best thing about it was definitely the gym which Hunter had set up in his front room. Yassen was eager to start exercising and building up his muscles again, he knew that he would need the extra strength if he was to follow Alex. Their couple of meetings had told him that Alex was at the peak of his fitness. Part of him felt a pang of jealousy and he unconsciously drew a hand over the raw scar over his heart.

In his bedroom, Alex Rider did the same thing. He could hear Jack downstairs, making his dinner and he rolled off his bed. A car drove past outside his window and he watched it go. It had been almost a week since his meeting with Alan Blunt and he was very glad that the head of MI6 hadn't tried to get in touch again.

In the hallway, the phone rang, bleeping shrilly and breaking through his train of thought. Jack's voice came faintly from below as she answered it.

Alex walked slowly to his door; his hand touched the wood just as Jack called up to him. He pulled it open, feeling it resist as it dragged over the carpet. He leapt down the stairs, taking them three at a time. Jack handed him the phone and retreated to the kitchen.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Alex, it's Sabina. How are you?" Alex grinned at her voice.

"I'm not too bad, how are you?" He knew that they were both skirting the real reason for Sabina's call.

"I'm fine. I have to ask you something though. While we're in England, Dad wants us to visit the Lake District, and we've got an extra place in our car, if you'd like to come with us…" Alex grinned, but at the back of his mind an ugly memory raised its head, on their last holiday, Sabina's father had almost been killed.

"Hang on; let me ask Jack, I'm meant to be having extra tutoring over Christmas so that I can catch up with my work." And to Jack: "Sab's invited me to go to the Lakes with her family over Christmas. Can I go?" Jack nodded, and then remembered the tutoring.

"I don't know Alex; maybe you should stay here and try to catch up your work. How long are they going for?" Alex repeated the question, and the relayed the reply back to Jack.

"One week, I can afford one week." Jack smiled and shrugged.

"I guess it's ok, just don't get into any trouble." Alex grinned and returned to talking to Sabina.

"Jack says it's fine. When are we going?"

"Monday, we're leaving the day after we get back and flying back to America." She sounded sad as she said it and Alex realised that she'd miss him as much as he'd miss her. "And you'll have to stay the night here; we're leaving at about four in the morning to miss the traffic."

"Monday it is then, I'll see you Sunday night. Bye…"

"See you Alex."

**Well, there you go. I hope it was alright. For those of you who don't much like Sabina (myself included): good news, she won't be in this very much but I was stuck for ideas on how to get Alex to the Lakes… For those of you who **_**do**_** like her… Sorry **


	4. Collision

**I own nothing! **

Hunter had done his homework with Alex; he knew where he would be most of the time. Yassen was grateful; it gave him an idea of where to start searching for the boy.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, he felt that familiar feeling return. He felt invincible, even though the fresh wound on his chest claimed otherwise. He walked slowly down the road, dodging between groups of people. Christmas lights were strung between the buildings over his head and he shook his head, they looked tacky. His eyes constantly flickered from side to side, although his head stayed still. He turned a corner, and almost walked into Alex.

The boy wasn't paying attention and Yassen sighed with relief as he passed without looking up. After taking a moment to compose himself, he turned and followed, staying a few yards behind, not that he'd be spotted in the crush of people.

Alex had his head bent, his eyes focused on the ground. A few tourists swerved round him, swearing in German as he plodded through the middle of the group. He was dwelling on the last few weeks, the final moments on Dragon Nine, and then further back, to Air Force One. He shook his head, trying to clear it.

As he did so, he stiffened. Some animal instinct had warned him of some potential danger. He stopped, ignoring the angry cries as people walked into him. He turned suddenly and scanned the faces.

Yassen twisted and faced a shop window, pretending to be engrossed in the display. He could feel Alex's eyes on him and turned away, walking back the way he had come. A few moments later he looked back. Alex was gone.

Cursing silently, he pushed his way through the mass of people. Nothing, the boy had vanished. Oh well, he could wait. He leant against a wall and folded his arms across his chest.

A few shops back, Alex Rider was doubled over, trying to get his breathing under control. Yassen! Here of all places. But why?

He answered that one before he'd even formed the question properly. Of course it was because of him. But Yassen was dead, he'd seen him die. It was like seeing a ghost, but worse. If Yassen was with SCORPIA then he would probably have been employed to kill him, Alex. And yet Mrs. Jones had told him that MI6 had called them off.

A few minutes later, he straightened up and peered around the doorway. There he was, only a few metres away, leaning on the wall of the shop next door.

Alex ducked back round the corner and weighed up his options. If he ran, Yassen would gun him down before he'd got to the door of the next store. But if he didn't run, Yassen would get fed up and come in after him.

Then it hit him, the back door. It was so obvious that he was angry with himself for not seeing it before. He made his way to the back and slid through the staff door. A few minutes later, he was standing in an alleyway, litter rustled as a chill wind whispered over it.

Alex shivered and drew his coat tighter and set off back home, making sure he stayed well away from the main street.

Yassen meanwhile, had somehow realised that Alex was gone. But he didn't know how or where from. He was stuck on the first day. He swore again and strode back down the street, not bothering to move around people. He didn't have to though; the look on his face cleared a path in front of him as people moved quickly and silently aside.

Hunter was reading when Yassen opened the door. It was a car magazine. The younger man slumped on the sofa in silence until Hunter asked what was wrong. Yassen explained quickly, bluntly. Hunter listened closely, and then nodded thoughtfully.

"He thinks that you still work for SCORPIA, that's why he didn't say anything. He probably thought you were going to kill him."

"Why would he think that? I told him that I would never kill him, he's your son."

"And then you sent him to SCORPIA, who promptly tried to poison him. See my point? He probably thinks that you were just saying that stuff to make him go to Venice." Yassen was silent. It made sense, really. "It carried more weight when you were supposedly dead, but now you're alive, he doesn't know what's going on."

"You've given this a lot of thought." Yassen said quietly. Hunter shrugged,

"I had words with Mrs. Jones when I went to see MI6. She told me a bit about how his mind works. But for all I know, he could be acting completely differently. And if you still want to follow him, you could just go to his house…" Yassen sat up straight instantly. Hunter laughed and handed him a slip of paper with the address written on it.

A few seconds later, Yassen was pulling the door shut again as he raced down the steps and out into the crowed street again. He glanced at the address and set off.

Fifteen minutes later he stopped in font of the house. It was large, three floors stretched above a few trees and the golden gravel of the driveway. A red mini was parked in front of the door.

He checked the address and smiled to himself. He crossed the road and inspected the garden of the house opposite. He hadn't been trained as a spy and had to guess at what would be good qualities of a lookout post.

"They're out. They went on holiday last week, they'll be back in three weeks." A neighbour had stopped behind him. Yassen spun round, bringing his fists up, but lowering them instantly as he completed the turn.

"Thanks." He said lightly, "I didn't know." The man shrugged and walked on down the street. Yassen waited for him to go, then vaulted over the fence. He landed lightly nest to the dense bushes and then strolled up the drive.

There was a wooden gate to one side and he leapt catlike to the top before dropping down in the back garden. A cat sprang off of the bird table and twined itself around his legs. Yassen rubbed its head quickly and the pushed it gently away with his foot. It hissed quietly before vanishing over the gate.

Yassen made his way quickly around the side of the house, keeping his eyes peeled for cameras. There were none and he made his way along the rear of the house, trying every window and the door. They were all locked, except one, a tiny window presumably left open for the cat. He went back to it.

Pressing his cheek against the glass, he saw that the handle of the large window was on the side of the smaller one. A plan started to form and he slid his arm through the small gap. He could just about reach the key.

Withdrawing his arm, he clambered onto the wide windowsill and paused. Once he had found his balance, he again inserted his arm and turned the key. The handle turned and the window swung open, almost pushing him off of the sill.

Yassen slid in through the larger window, careful not to disturb anything. The room was spotless, a cream carpet had been vacuumed to perfection and the white leather of the sofa was the colour of pure snow.

Yassen moved lightly up the stairs, treading only on the wood at the side, wary of pressure pads under the thick carpet. The landing on the first floor was floored in laminate and his trainers squeaked slightly as he made his way to the front bedroom.

He had a clear view of Alex's house, probably even his bedroom. He pulled a pillow off of the double bed and placed it on the window seat. He sat down on it and fixed his eyes on the dark windows of Alex's house.

**Can I just say I'm sorry that I always say Hunter instead of John, it's because I wrote my first one calling him Hunter… Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter.**


	5. Departure

Hunter had done his homework with Alex; he knew where he would be most of the time

**I own nothing! Heehee!**

Alex lay on his stomach on his bed. The binoculars in his hands were trained steadily on the windows of the house opposite where he knew Yassen was watching him. He was suddenly very glad that he had accepted Sabina's invitation to go with her to the Lake District. It would get him away from here and, more importantly, away from Yassen.

Who was still sitting in the window. Alex hadn't seen him because of the reflection of the cold winter sun on the glass. He was hidden. Yassen could see the boy across the road, his hands curled around a pair of binoculars.

Having seen Hunter recently, Yassen could see that they weren't as similar as he had thought. Hunter's hair was dark where Alex's was fair, Alex was also less broad shouldered than Hunter, his strength coming more from his speed.

Yassen realised he was smiling. Tearing his thoughts from the boy, he returned his concentration to the task in hand. In his pocket, his phone rang shrilly. Only one person had the number.

"Hunter? What's up?"

"I've been to MI6. Apparently Alex is being taken to the Lake District."

"What? Who by? When?"

"The girl he was staying with, Sabina Pleasure. You met her. They're leaving on Monday morning." Yassen took a moment to remember the girl; she had been there on Air Force One when he was shot. His wound sent a stab of pain into his chest and he winced slightly.

"Ok, but I won't have time to book into a hotel or anything."

"Stay in a B&B. There are hundreds up there, literally hundreds. Plus they're only going for a week."

"I don't have a choice in the matter do I? Ok, I'll start when they do, when do they start?"

"They leave at about 4 a.m."

"How do MI6 know all this?"

"I'm not the only one having him followed apparently. You better pack; they leave the day after tomorrow." Hunter hung up. Yassen listened to the dial tone for a second, and then flipped the phone shut.

He returned his gaze to the boy across the street. Alex had moved to the window, pretending to watch the traffic passing by below, Yassen could almost feel his eyes sweeping along the line of windows.

The sun was starting to set over head, dying the sky blood red. Yassen hoped it wasn't an omen. He sighed and turned away from the window, heading back to Hunter's flat.

As he gained the street, Yassen looked up at Alex's window. The boy was staring at him. Unable to resist, Yassen raised his hand and gave a jaunty wave before strolling out of sight.

Hunter was still out when Yassen got back so he set about packing on his own. He didn't take much; after all, a week wasn't very long. By the time Hunter got back, Yassen had filled the smaller of a pair of matching suitcases.

"Take the bigger one." Hunter said, holding out a Grach, identical to the one Yassen had lost after Air Force One, and a combat knife. Yassen gasped as he saw the knife. It was the one he had owned while he was in Cornwall. He flicked the blade open and again ran his eyes over the gleaming metal. There was a nick in the handle; he'd dropped it on a rock once and he ran his thumb gently over it. His finger curled around the grip and smiled.

The clothes were tossed into the bigger case and the knife was carefully wrapped inside a t-shirt. The Grach went into the holster at Yassen's hip. Hunter smiled, though he was a little worried about having Yassen so well armed around his son. But he trusted the younger man and drove away any suspicions.

Alex was packing too. His clothes went into a hiking backpack; his suitcase had been broken a few days earlier when he'd dropped it. He didn't have any weapons or gadgets, why would he need them? He was only going to the Lakes for a week.

All the same, seeing Yassen worried him. If he accepted that he was alive, then it meant that he could be in danger. Yassen had sent him to SCORPIA, and they'd tried to kill him. But he'd found out so much about his father. Hope glimmered for a second, if Yassen was alive… Alex shook his head to clear it and folded the last few items of clothing into the backpack. As he stood up, a movement outside caught his eye and he turned.

Yassen was walking past his house, looking totally unconcerned. Alex moved instantly to the window, watching intently. There was no mistaking the Russian's smooth features, the blank expression. A shiver of fear ran through Alex and he knelt on the floor to watch. Yassen crossed the road, looked all around, and then leapt over the wooden gate of the house opposite.

Yassen smiled to himself. Alex had seen him; he'd made sure of it. He'd wanted to stop the surveillance for the day remaining before they left and just get ready. But, as Hunter had pointed out, if they stopped then Alex would know that something was up. So he had returned to the house.

He didn't watch the boy, he knew where he was. The light from Alex's window threw a faint white glow over the wall opposite. Yassen lay on the bed, his mind churning. Finally the light in Alex's room blinked off and Yassen allowed himself to sleep.

He awoke at about 4 a.m. and knew instantly that something was wrong. Silently, he got up and moved to the window. His hand slid the Grach from its holster and he looked out into the street.

A car was parked at the side of the road. By straining his eyes, Yassen could make out shadowy figures inside. They were armed, the orange glow of the streetlights glinted off rifle barrels. They were turned away from him, looking towards Alex's window. Yassen swore quietly.

He half-turned, meaning to go out and get closer, try and work out who they were. Before he could leave the room however, the car started up and accelerated smoothly away. Yassen watched them go, still tense.

The next day was unremarkable; Yassen spent most of it sitting on the window seat, watching Alex watching him. The boy was crouched on his bed, binoculars in hand. Yassen found himself feeling impressed by his self-control. Something his father now lacked.

It was a stalemate. Neither could leave for fear of what the other would do. Yassen was more used to this, watching constantly. Alex had shunned Jack, telling her again and again that he wasn't hungry, was still packing, anything, just trying to keep her from seeing the Russian.

And that was weird in itself. Jack had heard about Yassen, the final moments on Air Force One, what Yassen had told Alex about his father. If she saw him, she would call the police, simple. But Alex didn't want that. He didn't know why, but he didn't want Yassen to be caught.

Hunter called Yassen again.

"They're on their way to get him. Get out of there, otherwise you'll have to follow him." He hung up and Yassen turned away from the window, pretending to be satisfied that Alex wouldn't go anywhere.

He walked out of the road, feeling Alex's eyes on his back. As he turned the corner, Sabina's car drove past. She had her face pressed against the glass with her eyes wide in horror.

Yassen looked at her blankly for a second before her face registered. Then he ran. The car turned towards Alex's house and Yassen heard the crunch of gravel as it pulled onto the drive.

He heard Sabina's scream, Alex's shouts. He swore quietly and ran on, his feet flying over the ground. He didn't stop until he got back to Hunter's flat.

"What's up?" he asked as Yassen came through the door, breathing heavily.

"Sabina saw me, and she recognised me. I had to run."

"SO she knows that you're alive too? And she won't have any qualms about going to MI6 about you, or the police?"

Yassen shook his head and Hunter swore. "Get some sleep. We can't do anything right now and they'll be gone by tomorrow, with you on their heels. Though you'll need to be more careful now." Yassen nodded.

"I know, but I don't think that Alex will let her tell anyone."

"Maybe not, but I don't want to risk your life on a maybe." Hunter snapped. Yassen shrugged.

"Ok, I'll be careful." He turned away and fell into his bed. He was asleep in an instant.

The next morning, Hunter handed Yassen the keys to his car.

"Good luck." He said.

**I've made few links to my other story so sorry if a few bits don't make sense. and I obviously hope you enjoyed that chapter! Oh and PLEASE review! Tell me that it's crap, I really don't care, just review!! (I don't do subtle hints) (And I'd obviously rather you didn't say it was crap…)**


	6. Racing Bullets

3 days later

**3 days later**

Yassen sat in Hunter's car. Across the road, Alex walked past with Sabina, deep in conversation. It was Christmas Eve and the streets of Keswick were thronged with people doing their last minute shopping.

Yassen opened the door of the car and followed the pair of teenagers as they walked across the park. He made sure that he kept close against the thick vegetation at the side of the path so that he wouldn't be seen. He stood at the gate and watched closely as the teenagers made their way to the edge of the lake.

Behind him, a car started and he half turned, glancing over his shoulder. As he turned back however, he froze and spun round again. Recognition flooded through him and he was moving before the car had even finished the turn. It was the car that he had seen outside Alex's house the night before they left. He walked, quickly but not fast enough to attract attention, towards the lake and Alex.

Alex heard the footsteps, too quick to be a tourist, and turned. Yassen Gregorovich was walking towards him, bold as brass. He caught Sabina's arm and pulled her round. She opened her mouth to scream but Alex surprised himself by clamping his hand over her mouth.

"No. Wait a second." He muttered. She shook his hand away but didn't try to scream again. Yassen was closer now. He stopped a few feet away, watching Alex warily. "I thought you were dead…" Alex said quietly.

Yassen shrugged. "Lots of people did. When that bullet hit me, I thought I was dead." Alex smiled thinly.

"Why are you here?" he asked. Yassen glanced over his shoulder before answering. The car was getting closer.

"I'm here to keep an eye on you. And right now, I'm here to save you. Follow me." He ordered and turned and ran. Alex hesitated for a second, and then saw the men from the car racing towards him and Sabina.

He grabbed her hand and fled after Yassen, pulling her behind him. There was a burst of gunfire and a man cried out and fell. Sabina screamed and sped up.

Yassen stooped at the sound of the gunfire, but ran on when he saw that Alex was unhurt. He wished that they'd left the girl, but it was too late now. He slowed himself down so they could catch up with him.

"Are you ok?" He asked as they raced alongside. Alex nodded, his face was drawn, but his eyes burned with a savage energy. Sabina said nothing, she looked like she was about to be sick. "We should leave her, let her go back to her parents and get out of here."

Alex shook his head sharply, "If we leave her, then they'll take her prisoner to get at me. Cray did it, why not these too?" Yassen sighed, concealing it as an exhalation as they continued to race along the path.

They came to a gate and Yassen held it open as the two teenagers went through. He could see that Sabina was really struggling to keep going and he briefly considered forcing Alex to let her hide and go back. But he didn't want to destroy the boy's fragile trust in him.

Alex was aware of Sabina's exhaustion too and was starting to consider getting her to hide. But then there was another report and a tree trunk threw out a cloud of splinters as the bullet smashed into it. Sabina screamed again.

Yassen passed them, calling for them to follow him. Alex pulled Sabina after him and followed. They reached the line of trees and raced between the thick trunks. Yassen pulled Alex, and by extension Sabina, behind a tree, gesturing frantically at them to be quiet.

The men following them entered the woods and Yassen peered between the trees. They were professionals. He could tell that much instantly, just by looking at the way they moved. There were three of them, the number that had been in the car. He ducked back out of sight as they looked in their direction.

"Whoever these guys are, they're good." He whispered. Alex nodded, his face tightening. Sabina was still panting heavily, loudly. Yassen stepped to her side and clamped his hand over her mouth. "Shut up or you'll get us all killed." He hissed. Her eyes sought Alex who nodded. She gave in and fought to control her breathing.

Yassen relaxed slightly. The men moved away, along the edge of the wood and the three of them carefully crept out of their hiding place. Yassen led the way though the wood, staying away from the paths and always alert for any sounds of people following them.

Alex was feeling more afraid now than he had while they were running. He hated being so tense for so long, not knowing where the enemy was. He envied Yassen; he seemed so calm all the time. If he hadn't have seen it with his own eyes, Alex wouldn't have believed that he'd been shot only a couple of months before. Still, he'd been shot too, less time ago than Yassen had.

He knew that he couldn't go back to the house they were staying in, it was too dangerous for Sabina and her family. Talking of Sab…

"Sab, you have to get out of here. It's too dangerous for you to be with me. Get out of here as soon as you get back to the house." She looked at him blearily, clearly bewildered.

"What about you? Where will you go?" Alex shrugged, glancing up towards Yassen who was waiting at the side of the road.

"With Yassen I guess. He's on our side I think, I hope he is." Uncertainty crept into his mind but he pushed it away. Now wasn't the time to get doubts. "Besides, if I go with you, they'll just follow, and I don't want you to be killed. It's better if I go on my own." Sabina nodded sullenly.

"Will I see you again?" it was an innocent question, but they both knew that it was possible that they wouldn't meet again. Alex shrugged again before pulling away from Sabina.

She watched him out of sight as he followed Yassen along the path. Then she sighed and started through the bushes and running to her house. Within an hour, her and her family were well on their way back to London.

Mean while Yassen was becoming irritated by Alex, the boy was almost in tears about Sabina. Yassen hadn't cried in years, and he didn't intend to start now.

"For God's sake, stop it." He snapped finally. "If you don't concentrate then you die, I'm not here to act as your bodyguard."

"Why _are _you here anyway? Who sent you? Or are you working for yourself now?" Alex jogged to catch up with the Russian, feeling suddenly curious. But Yassen shook his head, muttering something about not being able to tell him. Alex persisted, but his questions were met only by monosyllables and silence and he soon gave up.

They eventually stopped outside a small guest house and Yassen pulled the door open. A plump woman was standing in the hallway, speaking loudly into the phone. She raised a hand in greeting as Yassen opened the door and Alex squeezed inside.

They filed up the stairs and into Yassen's room, it was small, a suitcase lay open at the foot of the bed.

"Wait here, I need to sort out your room." Yassen said, quietly but firmly. Alex sat down on the bed, his body moving on automatic. Yassen left and Alex's spy side took over, he was on his knees and digging through the suitcase. It was just clothes… and then he felt the shape in a shirt at the bottom of the case. He pulled it out and flicked the knife open. He swore quietly and replaced the knife.

By the time Yassen came back, he had done a complete sweep of the room and returned to the bed. Yassen saw the mess in his suitcase as soon as he entered the room but didn't say anything about it.

"Here's the key to your room, number 4 ok?" he pushed Alex to the door and closed it behind him without saying another word.


	7. Traps

**I own nothing! Oh, except the three assassins. (Who currently have no names... i hate thinking up names...any ideas?)**

Yassen sat on his bed, breathing slowly and deeply, calming himself. He hadn't expected this, if he hadn't have had to look after Alex he would have shot the men, but he hadn't seen them until it was too late. He knew that he had to get out of here, get Alex back to London. But would he be any safer there? He would be alone; Yassen couldn't be with him in London. No, he decided, it was best to stay here, at least for now.

Outside his window, he could see the imposing silhouette of Skiddaw against the sunset. He smiled to himself, this was a beautiful place, but he was on a mission, he reminded himself. But he couldn't tear his eyes from the mountain.

Along the corridor, Alex was staring at it too, only now realising that he hadn't got a change of clothes. But that was the least of his worries, who were the men? He would have said they were from SCORPIA, but Mrs. Jones had assured him that they would leave him alone this time. But they'd been wrong before…

Dammit, this wasn't going to work. He couldn't see any way to get out of this, he knew that it was too dangerous for him to go back to London; they would know where he lived for sure.

Alex rolled over onto his stomach; at least they were safe here. His thoughts turned to Yassen, why was he here? He was being very cagy about who had sent him and Alex was desperate to find out. He hated having to trust the Russian with his life, and that's what this was, if Yassen betrayed him, he would be killed. Not that he had a choice; he wouldn't stand a chance on his own.

The next day, Yassen called Hunter. The phone rang twice before it was picked up.

"Yassen, what's happened? The Pleasure family got back yesterday, Alex wasn't with them."

"Alex is fine, he's with me. The men from the house are here, three of them. All of them are trained assassins."

"Shit, where are you? Are you safe, is Alex safe?" Hunter's voice was filled with concern.

"We're both safe, they didn't follow us back here. I've got to go, Alex is coming, he keeps asking who sent me, should I tell him?" There was a pause and Yassen could picture his friend as he struggled to decide.

"Don't tell him, not yet. If it gets really bad, then tell him. I'll come up there if you want. Anyway, bye." The line went dead just as Alex knocked on the door.

Yassen slid the phone into his pocket as he pulled the door open. Alex stood there, sleepy eyed but already keyed for action, and dressed in clothes that stank of stale sweat. Yassen wrinkled his nose.

"Morning, and I know that I smell, I left all my clean clothes in the house." Alex said apologetically. Yassen nodded.

"I'll take you out to get some decent clothes after breakfast." He said, picking up his gun and sliding it into the holster.

"Take the knife, you might need it." Alex said. Yassen looked down at him, smiling before picking up the knife and tucking into one of his pockets.

"Better?" he asked sarcastically. Alex nodded, grinning. "Anyway, come on, Mrs. Heath makes the best full English breakfast." Yassen led the way down the stairs and into the large dining room, there was only one other person there, all the others were still in bed.

Yassen and Alex sat at the far end of the table, away from the window. The plump woman from the night before came out of the kitchen bearing two plates piled high with sausages and bacon. Alex dug in instantly while Yassen picked at it for a bit before starting to eat properly.

Once they had finished, Yassen took Alex to the town centre, only they took a more roundabout route than usual. They didn't want to be followed. They eventually came to a clothes shop and Alex bought some clean clothes while Yassen waited outside.

He saw them just as Alex came out of the shop. The three men, all dark haired, were walking down the main street. Yassen recognised two of them, they had trained with him, both were older than him but the third looked like he was only twenty three or four. They were SCORPIA.

"Alex" he hissed, "Get back into the shop." He backed up, not wanting to take his eyes off of the men. They walked past, their faces expressionless and cold, but didn't see the pair hidden amidst the racks of coats.

"I know them." Yassen said, "They work for SCORPIA, they're assassins." SCORPIA. Alex swore quietly. He had known that it was too good to be true.

"Mrs. Jones said that they wouldn't come after me any more." He said softly as they walked along. Yassen's mouth tightened, he knew the drill.

"They're not official SCORPIA agents at the moment. It's a sort of unofficial mission. No records, nothing, just a crack team that supposedly went out on their own initiative." Alex nodded his face paling.

"So what do we do?" he asked hoarsely. Yassen looked down at the boy, his eyes were fearful. Yassen could understand the feeling; he too felt that dull throb in the pit of his stomach but he contained it and forced himself not to show it. And worst of all, he couldn't answer Alex. For the first time in years Yassen, the best assassin ever to come out of Malagosto, didn't have a clue what to do.

"I don't know." He answered honestly, looking away as Alex turned to look at him. He didn't want to see the disappointment and fear in his eyes. They walked back to the B&B in silence.

Yassen let Alex into his room and closed the door. He walked to the window and looked out. The street was empty. He turned back to the bed where Alex was sitting and opened his mouth to speak.

"What are they? If they're not official agents?" Alex asked suddenly, beating Yassen to it. Yassen hesitated before answering,

"If they want someone dead but can't officially go after them, they send out a small squad. They don't do any paperwork and there are no records. If the team is caught, SCORPIA say that they didn't know anything about it, that they must have set out on their own. Once they're gone, SCORPIA has nothing to do with them until they get back. They can't be blamed." Alex listened quietly, his face darkening.

"Can we stop them? Like, get a message to them?" Yassen was shaking his head even before Alex had finished.

"Nothing." He said. Alex nodded, he had expected as much. He felt a little disappointed; he had hoped that Yassen would have an idea to get them away. But he was only human.

"So what do we do?" he repeated. Yassen glanced at him, briefly, and then turned away again. He strode to the window, then turned and began pacing back and forth across the narrow room. Alex watched silently.

"Same answer, Alex. I don't know what we can do. I don't know the area and I don't know where they are, I don't want to risk your life, I'd never be forgiven. And I definitely don't want to die myself. And that would be the most likely outcome of anything I would do. Dying isn't fun, trust me on that one." Alex smiled despite it all.

"Who do you work for?" he asked, "Surely it's not that much of a secret." Yassen smiled.

"It is that much of a secret. Plus, I've been specifically told not to tell you unless it gets really bad."

"I would have said that this _is_ really bad. How much worse… can… it… get?" His voice tailed off as he realised just what Yassen meant. "You mean if we aren't going to get out of this alive." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes." Yassen said. He didn't bother to soften it; he knew that Alex could bear it. "They're SCORPIA. They won't stop until you're dead. But you know that already, don't you? You went to them?" Yassen asked suddenly, turning back to face the boy.

Alex sighed, and then sat down. He took a deep breath and began the story.


	8. Back from the dead

Yassen listened in silence as Alex explained about his last three missions

**I own nothing!**

Yassen listened in silence as Alex explained about his last three missions. He described his first meeting with Nile, the events on Ark Angel, and finally, he told Yassen about Dragon Nine and what he had discovered there.

As he finished, he felt as if a weight had been lifted from him. He hadn't talked like that for a long time, since he'd told Sabina in fact. And somehow the silence was less strained, friendlier. Alex knew that Yassen hadn't known about SCORPIA killing his father and that he wouldn't have sent him if he had known.

They sat quietly for a while. Finally, Yassen stood up.

"You can't go back to London." He said pointlessly. "So I think our best bet is to stay here." Alex nodded instantly. Yassen turned to the window and stared moodily out. A few people walked past outside and he followed them with his eyes.

"But we can't stay here forever. For one thing, MI6 will come up here sooner or later to find me; they're probably on their way now." Alex said from behind him. Yassen could hear the uncertainty in his voice though and relaxed. He wasn't best pleased about the idea of MI6 coming up here. If they found him, he would be arrested. And John's best efforts wouldn't come close to getting him released.

Yassen remained silent, debating whether or not to tell Alex about John. No, he decided eventually, let John decide. Unless this got really bad, he was going to keep quiet. His phone rang and he swore, he didn't want Alex listening in.

"Can I call you back later? Alex is here with me…" He allowed the sentence to hang in the air. On the other end of the line, John realised what that meant, but didn't care.

"It doesn't matter. An agent followed me back to my flat, he was from SCORPIA, I helped train him. So he recognised me." Yassen froze, his face paling before he could control himself.

"Where are you?" he rasped. He was aware of Alex poised, alert and tense, at the door, ready to move.

"I'm on a train, I'm coming up there." Yassen nodded, he had expected as much.

"We'll meet you at Windermere station, when are you getting here?"

"A few hours, I don't know, I'll call you later." He hung up, leaving Yassen listening to the dial tone.

"Who was that?" Alex asked as soon as Yassen closed the phone. Yassen raised an eyebrow.

"My boss, and my friend. He's meeting us at Windermere station in a few hours." Alex grinned; finally he would get some answers, even if only to a few small questions. He suddenly became serious.

"Yassen, what was my Dad like?" He didn't see Yassen stiffen.

Yassen was frozen, what could he say? He was worried that he'd give it all away. Finally he settled on giving Alex a brief description, repeating things he knew that he'd already heard.

"He was brave; he wouldn't let someone else stay in danger while he got out. He was a gentleman; he wouldn't hurt the innocent, ever. I try not to, but I'm not your Dad." Alex listened; he could hear the affection in Yassen's voice. Affection that he didn't bother hiding. Still, he couldn't help but feel a little disappointed; he had hoped that Yassen would give him a lot more information, but he seemed to be deliberately hiding something. He decided not to press it. Yassen was quite similar to Ash; he could kill a conversation in the blink of an eye.

They went out again as darkness began to fall, Alex had a little money on him and he bought them both some food.

They walked to edge of Derwent Water, talking quietly about nothing in particular. They were both consumed by their own thoughts and soon fell silent, watching the lake.

Yassen's phone rang again. Both of them started, jolted unceremoniously out of their thoughts.

"I'm nearly there; meet me at the side of the lake, by the launches." The line went dead. Yassen sighed; he would have to have words to John about hanging up the phone.

"Let's go." He said, slipping the phone into his pocket. Alex followed as if on an invisible string. They wound their way through the back streets towards their B&B. They didn't see the SCORPIA men again and made it to the car without any incidents.

Yassen hastily tucked anything of John's out of sight before Alex got in. Yassen drove carefully, not because he didn't want to break the speed limit, but to see if anyone was following them. He thought he recognised the car owned by the assassins and accelerated. He sped along a road, swinging the car between the traffic and receiving the blare of horns as his reward. The other car didn't follow and Yassen slowed slightly.

They pulled into the car park and climbed out. It was dark by now; the street was only illuminated by the street lights and the faintest glow from the horizon. Yassen locked the car door.

Alex led the way across the road, and then paused to let Yassen catch up. Yassen was tense; he didn't know how Alex would react to John being alive. They walked to the jetties, they were brightly lit still and Yassen could just about make out Hunter's shape on the far side of them.

Alex still hadn't seen him and was looking all around. He turned to ask Yassen if he could see anyone but the Russian was already halfway to Hunter.

Alex ran after him, slowing as he drew level. Yassen reached out and tapped Hunter's shoulder. He turned.

Alex froze. His eyes took in the dark hair, the strong features, the broad shoulders and the dark watchful eyes, his eyes. He found himself looking at a face that he had known all his life. A face that he had never thought he would see in flesh. The face of his father.

**Muahahahaha!! Sorry for the short chapter, but I couldn't resist leaving it there… sorry, I'm a sadist.**


	9. Revelations and Grenades

**Here it is... ENJOY!!**

Alex was stunned. His father was _alive_! After all this time! He started forward, but stopped well short of John. He was vaguely aware of Yassen walking quietly away from the two of them. He felt grateful for the privacy, but also wished that he could have the support Yassen offered.

John felt the same; he hadn't seen Alex for a while, and not this close since before the bomb on the plane. He hadn't expected that the boy would look so like Helen. The eyes were his, but the hair and face were straight from his dead wife. A memory of the nightmare crept into his mind and he pushed it away quickly. Even so, it was enough to fill his eyes with tears which he wiped away.

Alex watched, deep in his heart, he felt a tiny sensation of scorn. He knew that his father had been a fantastic assassin, but here he was crying… Alex felt instantly disgusted with himself.

"You've grown." John said, it was scarcely more than a whisper. He hesitated, and then laughed weakly. "That sounds stupid, of course you've grown." Alex smiled back, though thinly.

They stood in silence for a few moments, Alex was thinking hard. He wanted to ask John something, but for some reason, he wanted Yassen to hear the answer. He turned abruptly and strode to the lakeside.

He moved next to Yassen and the Russian glanced down at him before returning his gaze to the silver, winter moon. John crunched towards them over the loose stones on the beach. When he was stood on Yassen's left, Alex spoke.

"Why didn't you come back to see me? I thought you were dead for my whole life, so why didn't you come back?" He sensed John tensing and turned to look at him. Yassen turned at the same time; they were both wondering what was wrong with him.

John couldn't move, let alone speak. That was the question he had been dreading. Too late, he realised that Alex had managed to trick him into answering it within earshot of Yassen. And he had no choice but to answer. But Yassen wouldn't like it at all.

"I…" He swallowed, and then tried again, "I was scared. Scared of MI6, SCORPIA, I was even scared of you, Alex." It came out fast, a jumble of words. But somehow Yassen's hearing had improved a hundredfold, he heard every word. And hated them.

He turned away, walking past Alex and wandering along the beach. He heard Alex follow him for a little way. But the boy stopped and went back, sensing that Yassen needed to be alone.

Yassen was grateful for that. His mind was in turmoil. Hunter, his mentor and friend, had, while at his peak, been scared of his own son. That was too much for him, he couldn't believe it, and yet… he had sounded sincere. Yassen kept walking, eventually stopping under a tree. He leant against the rough bark and started sifting slowly through his tangled thoughts.

Alex watched Yassen go. He felt a little guilty for making sure that he had heard the answer. He slowly walked back to John; he fit his feet into the marks left by Yassen's and turned his gaze out onto the silver water.

"Why were you scared?" He asked suddenly. John looked down at him thoughtfully. Alex looked back, waiting for an answer. He was just about to repeat the question when John replied.

"I guess I didn't want to lose you too. I was going to come back, but you seemed happy with Ian, so I left you with him. It sounds pathetic, but I thought that if I came back to see you, I'd make you a target for SCORPIA if they found out that I wasn't dead. I thought that you'd be safer with Ian." John had refused to look at Alex for the duration but, as he finished, he looked down at his son.

Alex swallowed. He turned to John and held out his hand. He ignored it, instead pulling Alex into a hug. Alex stiffened, and then wrapped his arms around John, burying his face in his thick jacket. They stood for a few minutes, each revelling in the feeling of discovery. Alex finally pulled away.

"Where's Yassen?" he asked suddenly, looking all around them. He turned towards the trees at the far end. "He went in there…" He said uncertainly. John brushed past him and they walked together towards the trees.

Yassen was lying along the length of a branch, he looked like a leopard. His face was bathed in moonlight. His mind was still in turmoil, but he had somehow distanced himself from it and he felt strangely calm.

His head snapped round as the other two approached. Yassen hesitated, then levered himself to his feet and climbed up a few more branches. A couple of withered leaves that had somehow survived broke free as he passed and drifted down through the network of twigs.

"Where is he?" Alex asked from below. Yassen longed to show himself to Alex, but wasn't feeling particularly happy with John at the moment. So he lay totally still and waited. He heard Alex suggest that the two of them split up and heard John agree. He lowered himself lightly to the floor, then stepped into the shadows and waited.

Alex came back to the beach quickly. He had glanced up and seen Yassen's silhouette, he had quickly worked out why he wasn't showing himself and had led John away before returning.

He stiffened as he drew nearer to the tree, the shadow was wrong. He listened carefully and made out a familiar pitch of breathing, Yassen.

"What's wrong?" he hissed as Yassen caught his arm and pulled him against the tree. The Russian didn't answer at first.

"I don't want to believe that he was scared. Especially not that he was scared of you. If I believe that, then what can I trust? My mentor, my friend, he couldn't have been scared. I've seen him kill to save people, risk his own life to save others. I modelled myself on him, and now it turns out that he wasn't who I thought he was." Yassen knew that he sounded lost and bewildered, but he didn't care, he wasn't going to try to hide this.

John's voice came faintly from a little way away. Yassen's head snapped round. He glanced down at Alex and took a deep breath.

"We're over here." He called. John appeared out of the darkness and the three of them walked in silence to the car. Alex slid into the back seat and John into the passenger seat. Yassen was driving again.

The drive back to Keswick passed in an uncomfortable silence. Alex tried to start a conversation a few times, but his efforts were met by monosyllables and grunts so he soon gave up. The tension in the front was almost tangible.

Yassen got out of the car as soon as he turned the engine off and was through the front door of the guest house before John had even undone his seatbelt.

"He didn't like my answer did he?" he whispered to Alex. The boy shook his head.

"You should talk to him. Tell him what you told me, I forgave you, so should he." Alex whispered back. John nodded thoughtfully. They followed Yassen into the house, treading silently on the thick carpet. A gunshot rang through the still night air. John and Alex froze. They shared a glance before racing up the stairs.

Yassen stood in his half-open door. He was leaning heavily against the doorframe and was clutching his arm. Father and son saw that something was wrong at the exact same time. The grenade soaring through the shattered glass of the window was a definite clue.

Yassen threw himself instinctively around the corner, landing heavily on his injured arm. Alex and John followed suit, throwing themselves full length on the floor.

The explosion wasn't huge; it tore through the wall and neatly removed the floor of Yassen's room. Yassen was the first up after a brief moment of unconsciousness, pushing debris off of his back. He bent low, crawling over to Alex and tugging a few pieces of antique rafter off of him.

"They know we're here." He said. Alex laughed gently. They turned together as John groaned and heaved himself out from under the layer of debris.

"I never would have noticed." He coughed, voice dripping with sarcasm. They were interrupted by the arrival of the hysterical woman in charge and a few guests. Yassen groaned, great, witnesses. At that moment though, another grenade arced aver the demolished wall. Yassen grabbed it and hurled it back over. It exploded as it reached the car and he grinned.

His arm had been creased by the first bullet but it wasn't too serious. He swore and gestured at Alex to herd the others out of the house. John followed behind his son, leaving Yassen alone.

He watched the others go, sill clasping his arm, he limped over to the shattered doorway. He stopped, lowering himself to the floor. He could hear voices below him and eased himself forward. Two of the three men were picking their way over the floor of Yassen's room, one storey lower than it usually was.

They weren't looking up and Yassen slid the Grach from the holster. He sighted, bringing the other hand up to stabilise the shaking of his injured right arm. He fired once, picking off the older of the two men. Satisfied, he started climbing down to ground level.

The younger man froze, his eyes searching frantically for the enemy. There was nothing. Then a shadowy figure appeared in the doorway. It was holding a gun.

"Don't move." Yassen ordered and the man obeyed, locking himself into place. "Go back to SCORPIA, I won't kill you. But give them a message from me." The assassin nodded. "Cossack says, don't murder Alex Rider. Because I will go to MI6 with everything I know about them. Got that?" the man nodded again. Yassen ordered him to go and watched him, following until he vanished from sight.

Alex was frantic; the house was on the point of collapse and Yassen still hadn't appeared. He was being held back by John who was trying to hide his concern too.

With a sudden screech and crack of dry wood, the house twisted and fell away, taking a large chunk of the one next door with it. Alex yelled out, his eyes filling with angry and desperate tears. He strained against John's grasp before falling to the floor, feeling gutted and empty.

"What's wrong with you?" Yassen asked, coming out of a side alley. Blood streaked one side of his face and his right arm was limp, but he appeared unhurt. Alex let out a cry of joy and hugged him. Yassen laughed, patting him on the back.

Overhead, the sun began to rise. As the dust and smoke cleared, the sky was suddenly gleaming with last minute stars. It was going to be a nice day.

**Just the epilogue to go now, i know it's short, sorry. this chapter...I dunno... do you think it was too much in one chapter...? I hope you like it though... please review D **


	10. An interesting offer

**2 days later**

Alex was ready to leave. They had managed to salvage a few suitcases from the remains of the house and his had been one of them. John was standing a little way away, talking to Yassen. Alex watched them for a while, trying to hear what they were saying. He gave up and walked over to them.

"I'm ready to go." he told John. He hesitated, then turned to Yassen, "Are you sure you're going to stay here?" he asked. The Russian nodded, looking around him.

"For a while at least, it's nice here." He said quietly. Alex nodded, it was true. "I'll probably come back down to London at some point though." Alex smiled.

"You better." He laughed, looking up at Yassen. His arm was in a sling and he had a couple of paper sutures over his right eye. But his eyes gleamed with energy; they weren't tense and empty like they usually were. A real smile lit up his face and he looked genuinely happy for once.

"I will, I promise." He said. John came over to them from the car. He wiped oily hands on a rag and picked up Alex's suitcase.

"Ready to go?" he asked. Alex nodded and said goodbye to Yassen, shaking his hand. John lingered, chewing his lip. "I'm sorry…" he said. Yassen held up a hand.

"It's fine." He said. John held out a hand hesitantly and Yassen took it, smiling. "Goodbye, take care of Alex, he's a good kid." He said quietly. John nodded, glancing over his shoulder at the boy in the car.

"I will, and you take care of yourself. And maybe you could think about joining MI6, they could do with more people like you." He said. Yassen's eyes widened, but he didn't reject the offer. "Just something to think about…" John turned away and got into the car. Yassen raised a hand. Alex leant out of the open window, waving. Yassen watched them go feeling sad, but strangely free.

He turned away and walked back down the street, gazing up at the peak of Skiddaw and wondering vaguely how to get there. He laughed suddenly; he was a proper tourist for once.

He wandered slowly through the crowds, trusting his instincts to warn him of any danger. There was none. The sky was overcast; there was a threat of snow in the air as he walked slowly down the main street. Yassen tucked cold hands into his pockets and turned towards the lake. He walked along to the end of the beach, climbing up the cliff.

Yassen sat down on the lip of the cliff, gazing out at the islands and the humpbacked shape of Catbells along the far side of the lake. He sighed and lay back against a tree.

Alex and John arrived late in the night; they pulled up outside the house. As John turned the engine off, Jack flew out of the door and across the gravel drive.

"Alex! You're ok! Thank God." She pulled him from the car and wrapped her arms around him. John got out slowly, keeping his eyes on Jack. "Who's that?" She asked warily.

Alex turned, he grinned at John and Jack. "This is my Dad, John Rider." He said proudly. "Dad, this is Jack." They two shook hands. John moved around to open the boot of the car, realising as he did so, that that was the first time Alex had called him "Dad". He smiled happily and slammed the boot shut.

He went into the house, and clicked the door shut behind him. John smiled as he saw Alex and Jack in the sitting room and allowed his thoughts to drift back to Yassen. He walked into the room and sat down. He felt at home here. And Alex was safe.

In Keswick, Yassen was still lying against the tree. He felt cold, but didn't mind, he was watching the stars. His thoughts slid back to John and Alex and he smiled. Perhaps MI6 wasn't too bad after all…

** There we go, sorry that it's so short, but it sets it up nicely for the sequel... D (Amazing what Business studies does for giving me ideas for stories) should be up soon, but until then, keep reviewing! D**


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